The Maid and Her Marshall
by Captain Clueless the First
Summary: When scholarly Dinah O'Connor of Oxford is told by her father that they are going to live at Camelot, her interest is piqued but then her heart sinks as she remembers the female population. Among all these Court Ladies, how is a scholar to survive?
1. Chapter 1

"Dinah! Dinah, my dear!" shouted the ageing man, as he walked through the corridors of the university, swinging his cane with reckless abandon. A young man dodged out of range and slipped into one of the classroom, taking a seat.

The class was filled with about twelve other youths, intently listening to the lecture and taking notes, all clad in simple black clothing, except for one. The lone girl in the classroom looked up from her parchment, a frown creasing her brow.

"Oh, dear," she murmured, standing quickly. The master looked at her, an eyebrow rising.

"My apologies, sir," she said, giving a quick, meek nod. "I can hear Father calling. Safir, would you mind lending me your notes afterwards, so that I don't miss out, if it takes very long?"

"You needn't even ask, Dinah," said Safir. "I'll catch you up at dinner."

The Doctor nodded. "Very well, Dinah, you may go. I expect you to be fully cognizant by tomorrow, mind," he added sternly.

"Of course, sir," she said, curtseying before she walked out of the door, hurrying down the hallway where she could still hear her father calling. "Dinah! Oh, for goodness' sake, Dinah!"

"I'm here, Father," she called, quickening her pace. She tapped her father on the shoulder, and the small, portly man whirled.

"Dinah!" Language Master Rufus O'Connor said happily, looking up at his daughter. "We have an invitation from an old friend of mine, to stay at Camelot!" he showed her a letter.

"Camelot?" Dinah echoed questioningly. "Why–what–who is the letter from?" she asked, wrestling her thoughts into a coherent train.

"Oh, a good friend of mine, Clerk Geoffrey. He has a wife and two daughters, one of whom is just a little older than you! What a lovely thing, don't you agree?" he asked.

Dinah was silent for a few moments. Camelot, of course, was the court of the magnificent King Arthur, who had united the land just five years ago. Camelot was where the knights were said to be the most gallant and courageous in all the land. That didn't sound too bad. Then her eyes widened.

Camelot was not only the court of the peerless knights and incredible king, but also of the most beautiful, elegant and fairest noble ladies in all the land.

"Er–I suppose so," she said. "Though…"

"Yes, darling?" her beaming father asked. She swallowed, but lifted her chin and said clearly,

"Father, I'm not entirely sure. You see, my friends are here. Safir, as well as my other acquaintances, Charlotte, Lady Lucas, Eliza."

"Oh yes, my dear, but I'm sure you can keep up a correspondence with them," her father said, still smiling at her. "I'm sure you'll make new friends at Camelot, among the other ladies." Dinah's heart sank even further. That pre-empted her argument that she would not be at all comfortable with the other ladies of the castle.

She made a final argument, clutching at straws. "But, Father," she argued. "Surely I can learn more here at Oxford, than I can at Camelot?"

Her father shook his head, still smiling. "Oh no, my dear," he said. "Camelot has some of the finest libraries in the Kingdom."

Dinah nodded. "When will we leave?" she asked, resigned.

"Oh, I think a good fortnight from now should be enough," her father said jovially. "Now, back to your lessons, child."

Dinah nodded, as she slipped back into the lecture room, taking the seat beside Safir. The Moor shot her a curious glance, but said nothing, simply sliding his parchment over slightly so that she could see it. She gave him a quick nod of thanks.

"Tell you after dinner," she whispered. Safir nodded, and they returned their concentration to the lesson. Dinah steadfastly ignored the few tears dripping onto the parchment.

After dinner, Dinah caught Safir's eye and nodded firmly at him. He blinked in acknowledgement, and she stood, slipping from the dining hall without a murmur, as she walked to the now secluded library. Safir joined her about five minutes later, and they seated themselves in the shadows of one of the grand bookcases. Dinah's slight smile widened, as she looked between them. They had formed a friendship out of necessity when Safir first came here, a few years ago, as Safir was shunned by many of the rather shallow young men for his dark skin, and she was either leered or sneered at, because of her gender. Yes, Safir was the only one that Dinah would truly call a friend, and she'd go far enough to call him brother as well.

"What happened?" Safir asked softly. He was close to invisible in the shadows.

Dinah swallowed. "Father's accepted an invitation from an old friend of his to visit Camelot," she said shortly. "We leave in a fortnight, and I don't know when we're coming back."

Safir nodded. "So, that's why you were crying."

Dinah glowered indignantly at him. "I wasn't crying!" she snapped, crossing her arms. Safir nodded meekly. "Whatever you say, Dinah. Two weeks, you say?"

"Yes. I've tried to persuade him otherwise, but you know how he can be. Will–will you write to me, Safir?" she asked.

Safir placed his chin in his hand as he considered this. "Well, actually, I was considering escorting you," he said.

"What?" asked Dinah, unsure she had heard properly. Safir shrugged.

"You know, safety in numbers. A party of three is better than a party of two. Let's be frank, your father's hardly protection, is he?"

"Of course not," Dinah said. "He's a scholar. A language master."

"Precisely my point, my friend. Your father wouldn't have an issue with it, would he?"

"Certainly not. The people at Camelot might, though."

Safir shook his head with a snort. "Nay, I think not. Arthur is a good King, and a gracious one. If people stare…" he shrugged. "Well, they always do."

Dinah felt a smile begin to grow on her face. She leaned over and tapped his hand lightly.

"Gratum, frater," she said softly. Safir's smile broadened.

"Nihil est, soror," he replied.

The next fortnight found Dinah throwing herself into her work more than ever. At last, the day she'd been dreading and anticipating dawned. She saddled her black mare and led her out of the University stables, into the courtyard, where Safir was already waiting with his bay stallion, before going back into the stable and taking out the packhorse, a nondescript mule. Between them, she and Safir managed to settle the load properly across the mule's shoulder, and she sighed impatiently.

"I wonder where Father got to?" she asked. Safir looked at her, somewhat confused.

"I thought you weren't happy to be going on the trip," he said. She shook her head impatiently.

"I'm not, but I've resigned myself to it, now, and there's nothing left to do but go on it and see what happens," she replied.

"Ah," said Safir. "Oh, hallo, I think your Father's right there," he said, nodding meaningfully at the stables. Dinah glanced over and she cringed.

"Please tell me he's not–"

"Yes, your father seems to have thought it would be a splendid idea to ride a lady's palfrey to Camelot," Safir said gravely, his lips twitching. "I – ah – I do believe he's neglected to replace the lady's saddle with something more comfortable," he said, his shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter. Dinah groaned, lifting her eyes to the heavens.

"Dear God, give me strength," she mumbled.

"Amen," Safir choked out, shaking his head with mirth. "Amen." In a superb exercise of willpower, Safir got his laughter under control, schooled his features into a pleasant expression and smiled at Dinah's father.

"Good morning, sir!" he said. "Have you anything else to attend to, before we need leave?"

"Oh, no, Safir," said Dinah's father jovially. "Are you coming with us, my boy?"

Safir bowed. "I am, Sir. I have often wanted to see Camelot, and thought to accompany you, if I may," he said formally.

"Of course, of course, dear boy! Got your horse?"

"Yes, the bay stallion," said Safir, mounting. "Shall I lead the packhorse?"

"Ay, that would be lovely, Safir, lad," said Dinah's father. "I don't think I could concentrate. For some reason, this saddle is very – very uncomfortable," he said, shifting his weight. Dinah was struck with a sudden coughing fit, and the man looked over with interest.

"I say, Dinah, are you all right?" he asked. Dinah took a few breaths, her chest heaving and then answered.

"Yes, Father, I think so. I must have just choked on some...some dust," she improvised. Safir hid a smile and her father nodded sagely.

"Ah, yes, of course. Let's set off, then."

It was a very enjoyable trip, all being told. They were well provisioned, which was just as well, as Safir was the only competent hunter among them. Dinah's father was nothing short of a liability when it came to setting up camp, but Safir had taught Dinah how to do it correctly, and together they compensated for Dinah's father's incompetence. Often, Safir would lead the packhorse and Dinah would play on her flute as they rode. She'd never realised before, despite their closeness, the disparity of knowledge between them; and that was not at all good.

The journey to Camelot could have been done in a week. It turned into a leisurely three-week trip and it was put to Dinah's new education, and she threw herself into it, in an attempt to suppress her rising dread. Safir showed her the Pole Star, for celestial navigation, and how to tell the time from the sun and the direction from it, how to ride bareback and how to make a snare.

"I need to learn to use a weapon," Dinah said, one afternoon as they sat, practising snare making. They would be at Camelot the next day, and she kicked herself for not thinking of this sooner.

"What?" asked Safir, looking up from his inspection of the snare.

"I need to learn to use a weapon," she repeated. "Not that I doubt your ability with a sword, but I think I should anyway," she clarified.

Safir shook his head firmly. "No, and that's that," he said. Dinah frowned at him.

"Hear me out," she protested. "Everything we've been doing is so that I would be able to survive on a journey if I was not in such capable hands, right?"

"I suppose so," Safir said.

"So, shouldn't learning a weapon logically be a part of that?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Dinah, do you know how long it takes to become proficient with a sword? Do you know how long it takes to acquire enough strength to _hold_ one?" he asked. Dinah glared at him.

"I _never_ said anything about a sword," she enunciated clearly.

"Well, _what_, then? You don't have nearly enough strength to wield a bow that's strong enough to protect you, for one. The same goes for nearly every weapon I know of!" said Safir.

"I can think of one that doesn't," Dinah said. "Have you considered the sling?"

Safir's eyebrows shot up. "The _sling_?" he asked disbelievingly. "You can't be serious, Dinah."

"Why ever not?" asked Dinah, standing, the snare lying at her feet.

"The sling – it– it's a poacher's weapon, Dinah! You're a granddaughter to one of the oldest families in Ireland!"

"This isn't Ireland, it is _England_," Dinah protested.

"That's irrelevant!" Safir snapped. "As is your protest that your father was the younger son, and so it shouldn't matter what his daughter does. Your uncle got himself killed last year, remember?" he said pointedly.

Dinah deflated. "Oh, yes. That's right," she said. She never did like the man she knew vaguely as Uncle John. She knew she'd met him once when she was small. As she recalled, he'd been very vain, much too proud of his title of Duke of Connemara, and the proverbial fool personified. No wonder someone had poisoned him. Probably his wife, Aunt Eryn, she thought wryly.

"Which then makes you the heiress of it, after your father," Safir pressed his advantage. Dinah nodded glumly. The O'Connor laws were very odd by most people's standards, and one of the things that made them so odd was the fact that the laws allowed a woman to inherit, so long as the woman was in the direct line.

Then she frowned. "But wait a minute," she said. "We've dragged off the subject. Listen, we've sorted out that I need to learn to defend myself, haven't we?"

"Yes."

"Well, is there an alternative way of me doing that without my learning the sling?" she asked.

Safir crossed his arms, as he thought for a few moments, and then threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine! But don't say I didn't warn you!" he said ungraciously. Dinah smiled at him.

"I shan't!" she said cheerfully, as he stalked off to gather wood for the evening's fire.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Dinah and Safir were silent. Safir was brooding, as he occasionally did, and Dinah was telling herself to stop being melodramatic. (It wasn't working.)

Dinah's father, however, was more excited then ever, and his normal capacity for speech soared into full-on garrulousness. Dinah managed to tune most of it out, as they rode towards the high stone walls of the majestic castle. Even through her fear, though, she couldn't stop looking around. It was very different from the seclusion of Oxford, where there were few shops, and fewer people. Here, people bustled about trading, the streets were packed with carts and pedestrians, and shouts flew about from one place to the next.

They rode onward, towards the main gate of the castle, and the guards looked at them steadily.

"Hold, there," said one of them. "Your names and your business, please," he said, with a curious look at Safir.

"Language Master Rufus O'Connor, lately of Oxford," said Dinah's father, shifting eagerly in his saddle. "This is my daughter Dinah and her friend Safir," he introduced. "We have an invitation from my friend, Clerk Geoffrey, to stay here," he said. The guards exchanged looks, and then the second one shrugged.

"That's as good as a vouch," said the second guard. "Come in."

They rode in, and Dinah gasped, as they became part of a thronging mass, filled with more shouting than outside, if possible, and a riot of colour. She gestured to Safir to dismount, and he followed her lead. Dinah's father, however, remained on the palfrey, and Dinah shrugged to herself. At least her father had chosen a mare that was nearly impossible to startle. Her eyes lit on a little girl, and she leaned down and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, my lady. Could you show my father, my friend and I to the stables?" she asked, dipping her head to the girl. The little girl, whose light brown hair was cut short, turned a deep red and curtseyed.

"Oh, yes, sirs, milady, of course," she said with a stammer. She slipped through the crowd easily, and they followed her with little difficulty. Safir met a stable-hand's eyes and nodded cheerfully.

"Good morrow, friend! Would you take our horses?" he asked. The stable-hand nodded and stepped forward, easily taking the horses. There was a joyful cry from a castle window, and a scholar hurried out of the castle seconds later.

"Why, Geoffrey, you old dog!" said Dinah's father in greeting. "How have you been, old thing?"

"Oh, I'm well, quite well. And who are your companions?" asked Geoffrey, smiling brightly.

"Oh, this is my daughter Dinah, and her friend Safir," Dinah's father introduced. "Say, Geoffrey, I don't suppose that you would have seen the paper published on Nordic characters and the possible relationship to the Latin alphabet?"

Geoffrey shook his head disdainfully. "Let's go to the library. No, I have, but I disagree with it. Complete hogwash, I call it, Rufus. Honestly, I don't see how you can possibly think there is any correlation between–"

"And they're off," Dinah murmured. She looked at Safir. "Shall we find out where we shall stay?" she asked. Safir nodded.

"Ay, it would be prudent," he said. Their eyes scanned the crowd, and Dinah found the eyes of the girl she'd asked to show her the stables. Dinah beckoned to her, and stepped away from the thoroughfare, wincing at the irritated glare sent her way by one brightly dressed courtier. The small girl darted over, and stood before them. Dinah smiled and knelt.

"Good morrow, friend. I'm sorry, I only just realised I didn't ask your name," she said. The girl blushed, looking nervously first at Dinah, and then casting a wondering glance at Safir, who bowed gravely and sent her a charming smile. The girl's blush deepened, and she stammered.

"I-I-I'm called Mindy," she said, curtseying again. Dinah's smile widened.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mindy. I am called Dinah, and this is my friend Safir. Now, do you perhaps know of any guest chambers that may be available, for my friend and I?" she asked.

Mindy smiled. "Ooh, yes, my lady! I'll just take you to them now."

The girl took their hands and led them up into the castle, along several corridors until they came to their rooms. Dinah smiled at Mindy.

"Thank you, Mindy. May I call on you if I need anything?"

"Ooh, yes, of course, milady!" she said with a giggle. Dinah curtseyed, Safir bowed, and Mindy scampered away.

* * *

Dinah wandered along the corridors, looking around helplessly. She had set out about two hours before, trying to look for the kitchens, as they'd managed to arrive _just_ after lunch. So far, she discovered, Camelot was not a place easily navigated.

"You could probably lose an army in here," she mumbled to herself.

"It is possible," a voice said. Dinah's head snapped up and she saw a dark-haired young man – though she rather thought he'd still look like he was a young man, even if he was well into his sixties – with a triangular face, high arching eyebrows and bright, clear eyes. The man smiled at her and gave a graceful bow.

"What is your name, my lady?" he asked.

"Dinah. And yours?"

"I am Terence, Sir Gawain's squire. Are you lost, my lady?"

Dinah grinned sheepishly at Squire Terence. "That I am, Squire Terence. Do you think you could show me the way to the kitchens? If it's not too much trouble."

Terence bowed. "The kitchens? But of course, Lady Dinah. I'm on my way there myself."

Terence glided along the corridors with an unearthly sort of grace and Dinah followed, feeling rather like a clumsy infant by comparison. At last, he came to a door and knocked.

"Hallo, Sophie!" he called.

"Terence! What do you want now, you rogue?" came a girl's voice from behind the door.

"Oh, Sophie, I'm hurt! But I've found a lost lady starving in the corridors, and I thought, now who would be kind enough to give this poor lady a bite? Why, I know, I'll take her to Sophie!" said Terence, with a grin spreading across his face.

"What? A lady in Camelot, going hungry? Not on your life! Come in!" With that, the door swung open, Terence gently nudged her forwards and Dinah stumbled into the kitchen.

"Easy now, my lady," said a warm, welcoming voice. "Now, I hear you're hungry. What would you like?"

"Er...well, do you have anything sweet? I'm afraid I have a terrible sweet tooth," Dinah said, slightly sheepish.

The kitchen-girl called Sophie smiled at her. "No shame in that, my lady. Why, I've heard tell that Sir Bagdemagus would fight a bear for his honeycomb," Sophie said, prompting a grin from Terence, as she steered Dinah to a table. "Sit down, now, you look like you've been on your feet for a fair bit."

"I've been lost for the past two hours," Dinah admitted.

"Two hours! My word. I must say, it's quite fortunate you came though. I've been experimenting with some things, but you can't very well serve up _experiments_ to His Majesty, now, can you?"

"I suppose not," Dinah said, with a smile at the thought. She curtseyed to Sophie and took the seat. "I am glad to be of service, Sophie."

Sophie gasped in mock-horror, as Terence swiped a flan or three, shot a wink at Sophie and slipped away. "Lackaday! _Another_ silver-tongue on the loose!"

And that sparked off a conversation that lasted until evening. Sophie served up experiments to Dinah (all of which tasted fantastic), bustled about the kitchen somehow making item upon item upon item of food, and kept up a conversation all at the same time. The topic turned, after a fair while of court gossip, to that of courtly tales, and Dinah learned of the love affair between Sir Tristram of Cornwall and Queen Isolt, the wife of King Mark of Cornwall. Sophie, somewhat taken with the romance of the idea, sighed as she bustled around the kitchen, and Dinah pursed her lips as she thought.

She'd never been particularly taken with the idea of being in love. After all, from all accounts, it made you into in absolute moron, which was not appealing to Dinah. Also, from what she could deduce from this, it could make you bitter and full of hatred, like King Mark probably was, or outright selfish and cruel. Besides, it just didn't make _sense_. King Mark was Sir Tristram's uncle, which made Queen Isolt his aunt.

"But, Sophie," Dinah said, frowning, "doesn't that mean that Sir Tristram is having an affair with his aunt?"

Sophie giggled. "Only by marriage, my lady." She sobered, though, shaking her head. "Still, I can't see it working out for Sir Tristram and Queen Isolt. Even the cleverest of liars let slip sometimes, and King Mark is growing suspicious. King Mark doesn't have a reputation for being a fool, either."

"And are Sir Tristram or Queen Isolt clever liars?" Dinah asked. Sophie chewed her lip contemplatively, then, hesitantly, shook her head.

"Well, you understand, my lady, it's not my place to comment," she said carefully.

"But, Sophie, say for a moment that it were your place..." Dinah prompted, looking curiously at her.

Sophie smiled at Dinah. "We'll make a social woman of you yet, my lady," she said with a nod, and Dinah grinned. "But if it were my place, I might let slip that my cousin works as a cook in the court of King Anguish of Ireland, Queen Isolt's father. After Sir Marhault, Ireland's champion, was killed, a man came to the court with an entourage, wooing the fair Princess Isolt on behalf of another. A beautiful man, my cousin might've said, with broad shoulders, and he called himself 'Tramtris.'"

Dinah shook her head, mouth dropping. "_Tramtris?_" she echoed. "Why on _earth_ would he use his own name, but with the syllables turned around?"

Sophie's smile broadened. "As I say, it's not for me to comment on the intelligence of Queen Isolt and Sir Tristram. I'll let my lady draw her own conclusions," she said, with a pert curtsey.

Dinah shook her head.

"Right, well, that answers my question."

And she felt a small glow of pleasure as she realised that she'd found at least one person to talk to, in this daunting castle called Camelot.

_A/N: That's all for now, folks. But today's the 31st of July, and it's my birthday tomorrow. Review, please? For me on my birthday?_


End file.
